


Love, Actually

by french_crap



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pre-OT3, Secret Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3896659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/french_crap/pseuds/french_crap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Expectation: You're in love with your best friend who is going to marry his long-term girlfriend, to whom you're really mean because you think you deserve to be at her place. You are heartbroken.</p><p>Reality: You're in love with your best friend's long-term girlfriend, to whom you're really mean because you don't want your best friend to feel like you're going to be mad at him for being with her. You are still heartbroken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Be nice.”

“I am nice!” Eponine defended herself.

“You know what I mean. Be … be nice.”

“Yeshua! I am nice! I … I’m totally fucking nice. A real sugar cube,a real darling princess with manners, little glass shoes, peas in her bed and all that shit. I’ll be super duper nice. Promised!”

Marius sighed. “Just … no fights, okay? Not today.”

“Oh fuck off!” She flipped him off and Marius – although chuckling – gave her a warning look that said ‘Not in church, not today’. Exactly in this moment the organ started playing Wagner’s Wedding March and the three people who were pretending to be the guests who’d attend the wedding tomorrow, stood up.

“Lohengrin? Really?!” Eponine hissed, leaning over to Marius. As a private, semi-legal music instructor she never missed an opportunity to comment on music pieces being misused in modern situations. “You couldn’t even choose a song that’s not about a weird German king? Not even Pachelbel’s Canon, no it had to be Wagner, the antisemitic asshole?” But Marius wasn’t listening. His hands cramped around Eponine’s, squeezing it red, his own knuckles turning white. He had no time to discuss his musical choice for the entrance of his future bride. He had to concentrate on not fainting.

And then she appeared.

Cosette wasn’t wearing her wedding gown, she wasn’t even well-groomed, in fact she looked like she just came from her day job at the Kindergarten, but Marius’ breath hitched nevertheless when his look fell on her. Her big, hazelnut eyes glistened with excitement, her lips curled up to a smile when she appeared Marius, and a darker shade of red joined the natural pink shimmer on her cheeks. Her steps, although slow, were soft and she nearly seemed to float down the aisle. Oh, she knew she was beautiful, she absolutely knew. But she carried that knowledge without the smallest breeze of arrogance. She wasn’t conceited, or thought herself above other girls, she was just happy that she had found a man who was now looking at her with an expression of pure and innocent love.

Marius heart beat up to his throat and he involuntarily tightened the grip around Eponine’s hand. “Isn’t she beautiful?” he breathed.

Eponine snorted. “Yeah. A fucking angel. Where’s Valjean?”

And indeed. It was only now that Marius noticed that his fiancée’s father wasn’t guiding her toward him and the altar.

“He’s stuck in London until tonight.” Cosette replied, who was now close enough to overhear the conversation between the two friends. “Something about a volcano in Iceland. I didn’t quite understand it, but he’ll take the Euro Star and will be here in time for the wedding.”

Marius nodded sympathetically. “I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to get married without him.” He knew how much her father meant to Cosette. Although neither Marius’ grandfather, aunt nor cousin would come to the wedding, he could never force Cosette to give up on her dream to be lead to the altar by Valjean.

“Thank you, love.” Cosette smiled. Marius let go of Eponine’s hand to close the distance between him and his fiancée, and then drove it into Cosette’s beautiful, brown hair, pulling her into a kiss.

Eponine clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. “Hey, lovebirds, keep that for the wedding night.” Her voice was much harder now that she wasn’t alone with Marius anymore, a change that happened all too often, always, actually, and which Marius was used to by now, but still didn’t like it. He never understood why Eponine was so different to him, when friends, especially Cosette, joined them. He turned his head as he took Cosette’s hand to go to join the cleric at the altar, and cast Eponine another warning 'Not today’ glance.

With a snort, Eponine turned around on her heels and left the church. Her Doc Marten’s boots hammered loudly on the ground and her exit, including the banging of the door, echoed dramatically through the little church.


	2. Chapter 2

When Cosette and Marius joined the others in the Corinth, Combeferre immediately interrupted his speech to go hug the soon-to-be-wedded couple.

The girls, Musichetta, Azelma and Bahorel, hurried over to Cosette and pulled her away from the others, immediately discussing tonight’s stag party.

The guys, all but Joly and Bossuet who were too busy winning the Uno game they had started two days ago and just didn’t seem to finish, went to Marius and patted his back. They pulled him into a corner of the room that was far away from his fiancée to prepare him for the night. Courfeyrac generously filled the wine glasses with vodka, Combeferre spoke words of wisdom about how marriage can be the light of one’s life if you lead it well into Marius’ ear, Enjolras squeezed his arm and looked at him encouragingly, and Feuilly handed out crazy hats he sewed and crafted himself.

By the time they sat down at the table, Marius had already ex-ed three shots of fig liquor. Only Jehan kept sitting on their window sill, refusing to join the gender-segregated stag parties.

When Cosette, Musichetta, Bahorel and Azelma were about to leave half an hour later, the door opened and Eponine and Grantaire stumbled into the room. Arm in arm they sang We Are Young, and although they were visibly drunk, their two voices were remarkably in tune.

“Grantaire! Where were you?!” Joly asked, finally looking up from his set of cards.

“Admiring the weather.” Grantaire replied and before anyone could stop him, a waterfall of words rained down upon them. “What would Paris do if we hadn’t our bewitching autumn foliage? All those beautiful colours that grace us in this time of the year, compensating for all the bullying that will follow in winter. Even when a leafless tree is clothed with ice from the bottom to the top - ice that is as bright and clear as crystal – even when every bough and twig is strung with ice-beads, frozen dewdrops, and the whole tree sparkles cold and white, like the Lady Gaga’s diamond dresses, even then Paris is never more beautiful then when the big chestnut trees on the boulevards are plunged in red, orange and yellow colours! Eponine and I went admiring the weather because in Autumn, the tree become a spraying fountain, a very explosion of dazzling fires! O the supremest art of nature, of bewildering, intoxicating, intolerable magnificence. One cannot make the words too strong!“

“It’s Spring, Grantaire!” Jehan smiled sheepishly, probably being one of the only people who had actually listened to the speech. A speech, they seemed to know from somewhere.

“Oh, you must be right.” Grantaire laughed, walked over to them and pressed a rough kiss to their lips. Jehan startled, nearly dropping their poetry book, and immediately glanced over to Courfeyrac when Grantaire let go of them. Grantaire caught that look and after faltering for a brief moment, he put on his exaggerated grin again and staggered back to Eponine, who was still singing the same song.

“Are you not going with them?” he asked, pointing at the four girls who were standing near the door, ready to leave. Cosette was shyly eying them, as if waiting for Eponine to join them, but also not sure if she should ask.

Eponine glared back, then shrugged. “I’m Marius best man, not the bride’s maid. The lady can fuck off without me.” Grantaire whistled and laughed, but Cosette let her head hang, hurt by the harshness of Eponine’s words. Musichetta sighed, brought an arm around her shoulders and shooed the girls out the door.

“Wait for me!” Jehan suddenly exclaimed, stuffing poetry book and feather quill into their Ramona Flowers handbag and hurrying to catch up with Musichetta and the other girls.

When they were gone, Grantaire took another gulp from his cheap wine, and looked over at the group of men. The hat Feuilly had crafted was pushing Enjolras’ blond hair into his face, and every two minutes Enjolras tried to get the curls out of his eyes with a wipe of his small, delicate hands. It was adorable. Feuilly and Combeferre were talking to Joly, about something very funny apparently, because their laughter covered most of the other voices. Only Courfeyrac was quietly sipping his drink, his eyes thoughtlessly tucked to the door. When he noticed that someone was looking at him, he blinked, and turned to meet Grantaire’s gaze. But Grantaire couldn’t hold it, he quickly turned back to Eponine and tried to put his grin back to his chapped lips.

“You’re a mean bitch around her, Ep, y'know” he smirked, poking Eponine’s cheek with his finger. She slapped his hand away.

“She’s just… I just can’t stand her. With all her fucking sweetness, and intelligence, and, and kindness and all that shit. I just don’t like her. Marius can do better.”

Grantaire snorted and started singing again. “Give me a second, I need to get my story straight.“

“Oh, fuck off, R!” Eponine scowled.

“My friends are at the party, getting higher than the Empire State.”

“As if Cosette would actually ever touch something like weed.” Grantaire proceeded to ignore her protests, taking her by the shoulder and turning her to face Marius on the other side of the room.

“Your lover he is waiting for you, just across the bar.“

“R!” Eponine punched Grantaire in the stomach with her elbow and freed herself from his grip. “You’re an asshole. I’m off. Take pictures if those fairies over there get a lap dance from stripper girls. 'Gays in their unnatural habitat’.”


	3. Chapter 3

The humid heat of the sauna calmed the four girls and Jehan down, and their excited chatting turned into soft, comfortable mumbling. Musichetta had reserved a whole sauna hut for them, and so they eventually started to talk about more personal problems and stories.

Bahorel told them about her breast surgery that was soon to follow Cosette’s wedding. The money her parents sent her for the next university year was going to the surgery, and she hoped desperately they wouldn’t notice before the beautiful day on which she would wake up with a great new set of boobs. If her parents found out, though, they would probably frustrate the plan, and that really mustn’t happen. Musichetta told them about her boutique, which she had opened last year and which was now finally going into the black. It wasn’t far away from the Lady Di memorial, a very ‘in’ arrondissement of Paris, and Musichetta happily explained how most people who came to buy things in the boutique had a great fashion sense.

“And what is it with you, Jehan?” Azelma asked. “We all thought you had a thing going with Courf. But R kissed you?”

Jehan bit their lips and Musichetta frowned. “Are you two together? R and you?”

“No! No, we’re not.” Jehan replied quickly, sitting up on their bench. “I mean, I … I love him. In .. in some ways…”

“In some ways? But he likes you the romantic way?”

Jehan sighed. “We slept with each other.” Bahorel whistled but Musichetta sh-ed her silent. “He offered and at first I thought he was joking but then he … then he got really serious. He told me secrets. He trusted me with them.” Jehan fell silent and the others didn’t dare to interrupt the little flower’s thoughts.

“What is it, love? Did you fight? Do you regret it?” Musichetta eventually asked.

Jehan shook their head and smiled. “No, I don’t regret it. It was wonderful, and Grantaire is such a lovely person, isn’t he?”  
“A great R, yeah.” Bahorel smirked, muffled laughter following. For a moment, Jehan smiled softly.

“It’s just … I want someone to take care of him, someone to be kind and soft, someone who listens and gives him a chance to talk. Someone who loves him the way he deserves it but … this person is not me and that hurts. Because in some ways I do love him and I just want him to be happy, but I can’t.”

There was a long, silent moment, in which no one quite knew what to say, until Jehan chuckled and shook their head.

“Don’t worry about me. I mean, some birds are always traveling to the south, are they not?” And although no one quite understood what Jehan was saying, everyone kind of did understand what they meant.

“What about you, Cosette?” Azelma eventually asked. “You haven’t said a word since we left the Corinth!”

That was true. Cosette had plunged into deep thoughts from the moment the party had started, not commenting on anyone’s stories or jokes a single time, and for the last twenty minutes, she had not even looked up. Bahorel nudged the brunette. “What is it, pretty girl?”

Cosette looked up, startled at first, confused then when she saw all the questioning looks resting on her friends’ faces. She sighed. “Maybe I shouldn’t get married to Marius.”

“What?!” With consternation one “Why?!” followed the next.

“Do you not love him?” Jehan asked, calmly but worried.

“Do you love someone else?” Musichetta questioned, much louder. And Azelma, and Bahorel, both already cracking their knuckles and rolling up their imaginary sleeves grunted:

“Did he hurt you?”

“Do you need us to take care of him?”

But Cosette quickly shook her head, blushing deeply. “No, none of that!” She hadn’t meant to cause such agitation. “No, I, I still love him, and he is still an angel in a king’s robe.” Jehan sighed, and the others relaxed a little. Only Musichetta’s forehead kept the concerned frown.

“Then what is it, love? Or were you just joking? If you weren’t, you should hurry up with the running away, because tomorrow will be a little late for that.”

“It’s Eponine.” Cosette admitted after some hesitation.

“But you’re not marrying Eponine, love.”

“No, but neither is he! Have you not seen how she looks at him? She’s always nice and sweet around him, and she really makes him happy! But the moment I join them, she turns into a dragon. She hates me, and I don’t know if I want to do that to him. He will forever have to decide himself between his best friend and his wife. We will never be able to go to the movies together, or amusement parks, or just hang out. I don’t want to be made responsible for destroying their possible love, I don’t … That would be too much pressure, I…” But Musichetta stopped her.

“Love, love, love, shh. Calm down. First, Marius chose to marry you. So it’s not up to you to worry about taking him away from anyone. Secondly, Eponine and Marius have always been friends, long before you met him, never did he ask her out on a date. You didn’t steal him romantically, that is for sure. And thirdly, they are friends, yes, and she does make him happy, but you have never seen how he looks at you. He loves you. He absolutely loves you. And you love him. So don’t ruin this for you, thinking you might help out his friend. Because I can assure you, even if you broke up and left him at the alter, he would never come together with Eponine.”

Jehan scooted over to Cosette and wrapped their arms around her, holding her in a soft hug. “She doesn’t hate you. I’m sure she’s just shy.”

“She never even says my name, Jehan.” Cosette mumbled, touched by their support and words, but still shaken by the many glares she had earned from Eponine today.

“Maybe she just doesn’t like corsets?” Bahorel tried and earned some tired laughs for the bad pun.

Azelma stayed silent.


	4. Chapter 4

Cosette came home before midnight. Musichetta had rightfully planned the buck’s party so that it would end early enough for Cosette to get her beauty sleep. Nothing would be worse than looking like a zombie at her own wedding, no? Except maybe being hungover, so there had barely been anything else but classy champagne either. Neither Azelma nor Cosette had ever tried champagne before, and thus a little glass was already enough to excite them and bring them into the right mood. Montmartre had been beautiful that night, and the Burlesque show Musichetta had booked was amazingly impressive and very enjoyable.

Cosette was happy to be home early nevertheless. On her way up to her and Marius’ apartment she thought of her wedding dress, and a smile curved her lips. Wasn’t she the luckiest person in Paris? Alone all her life, and suddenly engaged to the most handsome and kindest man and surrounded by the most wonderful friends anyone could ever dream of.

She was excited, yes. Nervous, even. Tomorrow needed to be perfect, and if her father wouldn’t make it in time, she didn’t know what she would do. The way Eponine refused to say her name still haunted her, and she was scared Marius might choose the girl – the girl Cosette somehow knew from somewhere, a long long time ago - over his actual fiancée. But as she took the last staircase for her floor, she remembered how Jehan had hugged her, how Musichetta had refused to let her believe that Marius loved anyone more than her, how his friends would do literally everything to see her happy. All this meant so much, and it didn’t take long for a few tears to prick in her eyes. All those many years alone, they had only prepared her for this beautiful day. God had tested her patience to see if she deserved all that happiness. And oh! How happy she was. How terribly, terribly happy she was…

Just as she wanted to turn the key and unlock the door to her apartment, a deep, almost manly voice came from somewhere behind her.

“You’re home early.” Cosette jolted in her surprise and nearly dropped her keys as she turned around quickly to see who it was. When she appeared two sheepish eyes and a ducked head along with a posture that tried despite everything to look proud and cocky, she let out a long sigh and relaxed.

“Eponine.” she panted. She was wearing her usual boots, black skinny jeans and the old, used and holey hoodie. Her seemingly grey hair was hidden under a beanie, only a wide fringe covered most of her face.

“Who else?”

“You scared me!”

“Sorry.” Eponine’s voice was softer than usually. It almost sounded like she was speaking to Marius, not to Cosette.

“Come in. What is it?”

But Eponine shook her head. “I’d rather stay here. Marius will come home soon and I don’t … I don’t want him to interfere.”

Cosette frowned. She had seen Eponine like that around others before, but never had she been this soft and sincere around her. Was she acting vulnerable? Did she want something from her? What if this was the end of Cosette? Not that she had ever expected Eponine to be truly one of the bad guys, but maybe Cosette had bothered her too much. Looking down the stairs to see if there were maybe people playing a trick on her, Cosette crossed her arms in a defensive gesture.

“Listen, I know we h-had a really bad start, and I know how much he means to you, but tomorrow’s our wedding, and y-you’re his best man, and this is a thing for life, is it not? Listen, I … I understand that you’re upset, but m-maybe we could start anew?” Cosette’s voice was shaking. It all came up again. The panic, the memories, the fear of losing Marius, the fear of spending the rest of her life alone, the fear of never seeing her friends again. If she and Marius broke up, they would all choose Marius, would they not? Oh, she remembered all those endless hours alone, in a dark room, a dusty attic. Yelled at for every tear she shed, slapped for every laugh that escaped her. The memories were vivid, right there, and she felt it hard to keep standing on her feet. Suddenly the idea of being stabbed to death didn’t seem too bad anymore. At least in death, she would not have to live alone. “We could be friends, yes?”

Eponine stared at her with an expression of confusion, hate and lack of understanding. She stepped back, almost stumbled, and plopped down on the stairs, her head dropping.

“Fuck.”

“P-pardon?” Cosette blinked, surprised.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Eponine glared up at her. “Azelma told me everything and you really are too innocent to fucking get it!” Cosette held the gaze, unable to speak, unable to break away. What was she not getting? “Yeshua! Fuck! Stop looking at me like that! You and your pretty deer eyes. You always look at me like that! Can you not finally stop looking at me like that? I’m not your enemy! I never was! Do you think I’d have helped Marius finding you if I hated you? Can you really not just count one and one together?! Hashem, I …” With a brusque gesture she ripped the beanie of her head and combed her fringe away from her forehead and for the first time Cosette could really see her eyes. And Cosette knew them… Those eyes were part of the lonely memories that haunted her at night, they were the reason why she always slept against a heater, to feel less alone in her bed. They were the Thénardier’s daughter’s eyes.

“Eponine…” she breathed, petrified by the sudden realization. “I’m so sorry, I …” But the Eponine she knew back then looked so different. Her hair used to be golden, and didn’t her eyes always shimmer with dark blue happiness? This Eponine, the girl who was standing right in front of her, she wasn’t dressed in pretty pink Disney princess dresses, she wasn’t laughing and playing with Barbies like nothing could ever destroy her peace. This Eponine was tough, so much tougher than Cosette, strong, masculine, unapproachable. What had happened?

While Cosette was still struggling to find words, Eponine huffed and let her hair fall down again. When she then continued speaking, there was still no harshness in her voice, but something in the way she ducked her head, told Cosette that she wished it back. The toughness. The farouche strength.

“We always wondered what happened to you… This weird old dude came and took you away and that was the last we ever saw of you. Years pass, we hear nothing of you, and suddenly Marius tells me he’s in love with a girl, and that I have to find her for him. And I find her and it’s … it’s fucking you!”

Cosette leaned back against the door and closed her eyes. She felt dizzy. It all made sense now. Of course Eponine couldn’t stand her! They had lived together as kids, and after Cosette’s departure it had gone bad with the Thénardier’s family business, the family sank into poverty, while Cosette got the chance to live in happiness with Valjean. Monsieur Madelaine, her father. “I’m so sorry…” she repeated, tears pricking in her eyes again.

“No! No you don’t get it!” Eponine shouted and Cosette jolted. Her knees started shaking more and more. “You don’t have to apologize! Don’t you get it?! I’m fucking happy for you! Azelma and I spent years to find you! As soon as we got old enough to realize how fucking shitty our parents are and were to you, we felt bad! We never wanted to be mean to you, but we were kids, we didn’t know any better! We let you go with that stranger, who could have been an abuser, a kids pimp or something scary like that. And then you never came back and we never found you, and oh Hashem! Anything could have happened to you, we felt so bad! And then one day I see you in that garden, and you look so beautiful, so so beautiful, and you’re dressed nicely, and you read a book, and sing, and you look so happy and … and …” She trailed off. Cosette kept her eyes on her but didn’t know what to say. Her voice was probably lost anyways. “And Marius loves you. My best friend, my … brave, handsome, intelligent best friend loves you. And all I can think of is, fuck, Ep, don’t fuck this up, if you fuck this up you will never forgive yourself, Cosette deserves all the fucking happiness, and you need to make sure that she will never be sad, and… And I hoped for you to be a bitch, I really did! Over the years I hoped that you had turned into a mean, reckless person who I didn’t have to feel bad for, I hoped you’d be shallow, and stupid, and idiotic and annoying, and he’d talk to you once and never again. I really hoped that! But … but you weren’t. You’re one of the nicest people I ever met, you make the funniest jokes, you help your friends when they need it, you can be lovely and fierce, and your way to be to the kids in the Kindergarten is amazing! You’re so talented, so sweet and you’re just as … as kind as you look like. It … it all fucked me up. I…” She stopped herself again. Maybe she was waiting for Cosette to speak, but her throat was tied. Slowly, Cosette sank to the floor.

Eponine hurried to crouch down next to her, bringing one arm around her and putting a surprisingly gentle hand lightly on her cheek. “Cosette?”

Her name! Uttered by those round, full lips, spoken by that melodic, deep voice, it went right into her blood stream, sending chills and tingles into every single vein of hers. It let her breath hitch, stopped the shaking of her limps, helped her to look up again. “You just said my … name.”

“Course I did.” Eponine rolled her eyes, but there was barely any annoyance in her tone. There was even the shadow of a smile in her eyes. Her voice was still soft, still careful.

“You never…”

“I was scared you’d recognize the way I said it. How I used to say it. Back then.”

Cosette hesitated. “Say it again.”

“I … I’m glad you turned out the way you did, Cosette… Marius has a great taste…” Cosette moved to brush the tip of her fingers over Eponine’s dark lips. Were they really capable of speaking such beautiful words? Was the sound in which they pronounced her name really not just a gag of old grudge? Could it really be that after all this, Eponine didn’t hate her?

“Eponine…”

“Congrats, that’s my name.” she smirked, taking Cosette’s hand away from her mouth. But different than it used to be, her smirk wasn’t spiteful, and the way she moved her hand wasn’t harsh. It was all very soft, and careful. Cosette couldn’t help but wonder if this was the real Eponine, the Eponine that wasn’t scared of getting hurt, the Eponine Marius liked so much.

“Eponine, but if you never hated me, why were you so mean to me?”

Eponine turned her head to look to the side, shook her head, and when she glanced back at Cosette, there were tears caught in her eyelashes. As she spoke, her voice broke.

“I was so mean to you because I l-… I like you. I always did. I was scared that … That’s really stupid. Please don’t … I was scared that I wouldn’t want to be friends with Marius anymore because he could go on dates with you, and hold hands, and kiss you in the back row of the cinema and all that corny shit, and I couldn’t. Because you liked him, and I like him too, and I don’t want to hurt him by liking you, but you only like him and not me and I …”

“You like me?” Cosette whispered. She desperately tried to find the answer on Eponine’s face, but she had closed her eyes again.

“Love, actually.”

“You love me?”

“Like Marius loves you. Like you love Marius. Like Marius and you … will never love me.”

A gasp escaped Cosette and she covered her mouth with her hands. Eponine glanced at her and shook her head. Shrugging she said:

“Forget about it. I just wanted to tell you why I was such a bitch to you. So you’re not scared of tomorrow. I don’t hate you. I’m not mad at you for being in love with Marius, for taking him away from me. I just didn’t know how to be around you. I didn’t want you to know about … that, or to make you feel bad, and have you think that I hurt around you because you don’t love me back. That’s … all that’s okay. Seeing you smile, seeing you happy with Marius, with my friends, there’s barely anything that could make me happier.” She took a shaky breath and pulled away, getting up. “I was an idiot because I was scared that if Marius finds out about how I feel about you, he’d not let me be a part of his and your life.” Cosette got to her feet, too, slowly and still shaking, and stepped as close as she could to her friend. It hurt to see Eponine like that. Although Cosette had never really seen her very happy, she knew that she never wanted to see her sad like this either. Eponine blinked, swallowing thickly before continuing. “F-fuck, and I … I don’t want to be alone again… I don’t ever want to be alone without you again.” She covered her face in her hands. Cosette took them hers, and held them against her collarbone. How human she suddenly was. Oh, what a beautiful human.

“Don’t cry, Eponine… We will never be alone again.”

Eponine sniffled. “You’re a fucking princess, Cosette.”

“I’m a princess, but not quite fucking yet. Not until tomorrow night.” she smirked and pecked on Eponine’s cheek, having to stand on her tiptoes to do that. Eponine’s flushed bright red immediately, but at least it charmed a laugh out of her.

“Holy no, you can’t say a thing like that! I don’t even want to think about my friends fucking each other! Ugh!”

Cosette laughed, seemingly innocently, but then paused. Her mouth slightly gapped she looked up at Eponine and took a moment to proceed what she just heard. “You… So does that means we’re friends?”

“… if you’re alright with that?”

Cosette let out an excited squeak and jumped to throw her arms around Eponine’s neck. “Yes, yes, yes, I am!”

Eponine blushed some more, awkwardly patting Cosette’s back. “Keep your Yes-vows for tomorrow.” Although she said it almost coldly, her voice was still so much softer than it used to be, and Cosette couldn’t help but hold her a little tighter. Maybe it wasn’t perfect yet, having someone be in love with you, while you’re married to another person could always lead to problems, especially when both people were so incredibly besotting, and Marius would probably never be okay with Cosette pining on another person, but!, but it was good, and from now on, it could only get better.


	5. Chapter 5

It was neither Pachelbel’s Canon nor Wagner’s Wedding March that played when Cosette, draped in a white dream of satin, enveloped by a light, see-through veil, walked down the aisle. Her steps as elegant and as graceful as always, it looked as if she was dancing. Dancing to The Beatle’s All You Need is Love. A song that Eponine had chosen the morning itself and was now performing it with Grantaire, the chorus being sung by all the Amis together.

When the music stopped and Marius, tears in his eyes, placed a quick kiss on his still-fiancée’s hands. Bliss and felicity were no strong enough words to describe how he felt. He had been terribly nervous only minutes ago, but the moment the door to the church had opened, and Cosette at her father’s arm had walked in, all negative feelings had left him.

While the cleric spoke and his eyes rested on the fair face behind the veil, he felt safe. This was what he wanted, Cosette was what he wanted, and he couldn’t believe that he had the right to soon be called her husband. Her own and only husband. When he spoke his vows, untypically for him not even stumbling over his words once, he promised himself to never hurt Cosette, to never say or do something that might upset or anger her. He loved the idea of her being in his life, but much more he needed to know that she let him being a part of hers.

“The rings now, please.” Marius heart hitched, suddenly in panic again. Was Eponine still there? Had she already left the church? Was she angry? Was she maybe trying to sabotage his wedding? Not that he meant any of this to think, but the nervousness made it hard for him to think straight. But when he turned around, he appeared no one else but her, dressed in a well-sitting black suit. She didn’t look angry, she didn’t looked annoyed, or bored, hostile. She held her usual posture, proud and cocky with her head a little ducked, her eyes almost sheepish. Marius sighed with relief. His best friend, his best man, his wonderful Eponine was standing behind him … like she always had.

She stepped closer and handed the couple the rings, and when her eyes met Cosette’s, a smile ran over her lips. Cosette mirrored the smile, and it stayed there for the rest of the day.

~ the end ~


End file.
